


Brave New World

by DarchangelSkye



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Culture Shock, F/M, Food, Gen, Jossed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Recovery, Shopping, Vignettes, Wordcount: 100-2.000, five things, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarchangelSkye/pseuds/DarchangelSkye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five vignettes of Katrina adjusting to 21st century life post 2x07.</p><p>(Likely to be Jossed with 2x08 so enjoy the heartwarming Ichatrina moments before canon throws them a curveball again)</p><p>ETA 11/10/2014: annnnd turns out I was right. Dagnabbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

I.  
Katrina was pleasantly surprised to learn that witchcraft was tolerated much more in this day and age, to the point of even being considered a religion. The freedom of religion that Ichabod and other soldiers had fought for had persevered.  
"Wicca's been Hollywood-ized, not any kind of witchcraft you'd recognize," Abbie however informed her. "It's mostly teenage girls who grew up on _Buffy_ reruns and burn saffron under the half-moon and chant to pass their exams. I'd never heard of any spells working until this whole mess got started."  
Perhaps that was for the best. There was an unseen world of power out there yet to be tapped, and those girls may not be mature enough to endure the responsibility of harnessing something so potentially dangerous. It had been difficult enough for Katrina herself.  
Although her familiar was her raven instead of the now-seemingly iconic little black cat, Katrina felt a spirit around the animals she encountered in Sleepy Hollow. Dogs being walked on leashes would turn their heads and alley cats would brush by her ankles, their purring a gentle signal of trust. Animals were more receptive than many people would want to believe or give them credit for.  
But Katrina knew that they knew, and she could trust them as well.

II.  
There was no chance Katrina was staying in those cast-off jeans and tank top forever, much as she'd secretly enjoyed Ichabod's brief fluster at their shapeliness (it shouldn't be a crime for your husband to be attracted to you, after all). Besides the materials he would get from the historical reenactment group, there was a shop called the Salvation Army that seemed to sell everything for next to nothing, including clothing.  
It was a relief to see that modest and flattering dresses could be worn now without the hassle of corsets or petticoats. Katrina would gently finger the material of whatever frock caught her sight while Ichabod stood at the end of an aisle (no, one could not blame him for his vigilance). Occasionally she would receive a glimpse in her mind of the outfit's previous owner, from an old woman who'd died peacefully in her sleep to an enraged wife disposing of everything purchased by an otherwise inattentive husband.  
The mirror in the fitting room allowed her to see the full length, particularly now of an emerald-green dress that had a square cut above her bosom, sleeves that reached her elbows, and skirt that ended above her ankles (at least stockings were still common). She nervously caressed the faux-jewel buttons down the front, looking less at the dress and more beyond her reflection. Was this new life merely another deceiving illusion she'd awaken from soon, or possibly Moloch would appear to take her through the glass?  
But all she heard was a trio of knocks from outside. "Is everything fitting all right, my love?"  
All right, yes, things would be all right. Katrina gave a genuine smile and, "Yes, Ichabod," and unlocked the door to let him see. She was greeted with the smile and hooded eyes she had fallen in love with and he took her hand.  
"I always adored that color on you."

III.  
How two hundred years and then some changed the world, not just America. Katrina would pore over the newspapers and books Ichabod kept around the cabin, much preferring them to the harsh glow of television and computer screens. Countries had advanced so much, from their technologies to cultures to how people regarded each other. It was moments like these that assured her that long-ago sacrifices were not in vain.  
Of course, it was not a completely perfect world. In this day and age there was still disease and discrimination and despair, stories that would darken Katrina's eyes with sadness and Ichabod would sometimes need to sit between her and the offending article.  
"The solutions are so plainly obvious," she said while their hands were intertwined, "but the ones in power refuse to help those in need."  
"You always did have a caring heart," Ichabod said softly as he caressed a thumb over his wife's knuckles. "One person cannot change the world entire, but can make small differences that will grow and build. And who knows," a smile of hope touched his face, "once this great evil is defeated for good, the ones in power may have a change of heart after all."

IV.  
Hawley had an apparently-rare generous moment and provided Katrina with identification papers similar to the ones he'd procured for her husband. ("I've always been a sucker for redheads," he said when Ichabod was out of hearing range, and she didn't press the matter further.) Of course she'd had her birth and marriage certificates long ago, but seeing this small card with her photograph was a new kind of surreal experience.  
"It seems if you don't have your name all over everything, you don't exist," Ichabod told her.  
At first it felt like the ID was a waste; she didn't care for the beer at the tavern they would sometimes visit with Abbie, and given their budgets knew that wine would be an incredibly rare indulgence if ever. But when dessert was possible after a light meal, there was the tiniest cake with a creme liquor center that danced across her tongue and brought back fond memories of long-ago soirees.  
Even if the recipe had come from a factory instead of the tavern's kitchen, it was delicious that Katrina could, for the moment, forget everything else. Ichabod was not the only one who had acquired a sweet tooth.

V.  
The cabin had only one bed. Ichabod had offered to bring in another cot, but Katrina merely said, "Darling, I'm not afraid of you. There's nothing we're keeping from each other anymore."  
In the long nightclothes she'd acquired from the Salvation Army, she would often be curled under the covers like an animal would sleep, a hand barely within reach of her husband instead of their previous intimate embraces. Always understanding, Ichabod did not push for further contact. He knew the ordeals she needed to free her mind of first.  
At least, he believed he knew. Night after night, horrible dreams would plague Katrina's consciousness- Purgatory, their son's betrayal, Abraham's cold calculations, the Weeping Lady, Moloch, all amplified to a degree one might believe Hell's fires were a more pleasant alternative. Not that that stopped the added sensation of flames licking at her feet while no matter how loud she screamed, nobody heard her.  
One night, her screams finally externalized and she bolted up in bed with a sharp cry. Of course, Ichabod was awake a split-second later, white as their sheets. "Katrina! Darling! What's happening?"  
She couldn't speak, only sobs leaving her sore throat and open lips while hot tears cascaded down her face. Would the torment never cease? Was she not meant for happiness? Would their mission for peace be all for nothing?  
Blindly through her flooded vision, she reached for Ichabod's wrist and was grateful for the solid touch, grateful enough to lean her head to his shoulder and soon feel his hand stroke the back of her hair. This was real.  
"You are not drowning, my love, not going under," Ichabod murmured and kissed her cheeks when the sobbing noises began to subside. "There's no longer a need to grasp for straws. We have many on our side and this battle will be won, I swear to you."  
Katrina rubbed her eyes and looked to her husband, the man she had loved all this time and whom returned the emotion when she'd given him reason not to trust her...while she still trusted him. She would have to believe.  
Wordlessly she winded her arms around Ichabod's neck, and his hands settled to the small of her back. One more soft breath of gratitude escaped and she could lie back down in the embrace. A return to sleep would still be a long time coming, but it was true there was nothing to be feared. This world could be won.


End file.
